


Javert Realigned

by Noraivy



Category: Les Misérables (TV 2018), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: BBC Javert deserved better, Fix-It, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, Suicide mention, boyfriends who solve crimes, lots of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 09:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17660036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noraivy/pseuds/Noraivy
Summary: The one where Rivette stops Javerts suicide and they solve crimes and go on dates. Featuring a whole lot of pining and a hell of a lot of gay police officers being stupid. (or an extremely indulgent fix it fic)





	Javert Realigned

**Author's Note:**

> The BBC les mis was a bit of a mess, but Javert and Rivette were a highlight! So, of course, I'm going to write a fix-it fic for them... Stole the title for this from the brick itself, so thanks, Victor Hugo! Also, all characterisation is a mix of BBC and Brick so may be a lil bit weird...

The words swim in front of Rivette’s face as he desperately tries to decipher the Inspectors ornate handwriting, by the third paragraph it has become all too clear to him what this is. A suicide note.

Dropping the paper on the desk in shock, Rivette breaks almost into a run as he pushes through the door and into the corridor, colliding with a young officer on his way through.

“the worlds gone mad tonight” mutters the man, looking at him as if concerned he has gone insane.

“what do you mean" Rivette half spits, shocked by his own anger 

“first the inspector wandering off like he’s dreaming, now you running around, and all those crazy people piling chairs up in the streets, you can forgive my assumption” says the officer, in a tone that certainly doesn’t convey the respect Rivette would expect, but frankly he’s far too worried about Javert to reprimand the man now.

“which way did the inspector go?” He asks desperately.

“Down toward the Pont du Change?” Says the officer, and Rivette pushes past him without another word.

The precious moments lost scare him and he scarcely notices the rain as he runs down the centre of the road, barely able to restrain himself from calling the inspectors name like a madman.

As he nears the bridge his eye is caught by a stooped figure in a long coat standing on the shore.

“Javert!” he calls, worries dissipating as he runs down the stairs, few men have drowned themselves from the shore of the Seine.

But as he nears the figure it becomes disturbingly clear the this is not the man he is looking for, as evidenced by the battered top hat on his head, but this man is staring upwards, not at the sky but at a figure balanced on the very edge of the bridge.

“No” Rivette whispers to himself “No, no, no” 

He turns and runs back up the steps, along the road, and up until he sees clearly that the figure is in fact Javert. The warm night air catches in his throat as he wills himself forwards as fast as he can move, arms stretched in front of him as if aiming to grasp the air.

“Stop” he chokes out, and as if in response, Javert collapses against the wall, 

Rivette stops in place, staring, wondering if he should move forward when the inspector seems to steel himself, straightens up and stands again. 

Whatever instincts Rivette has developed in the past twenty years of police service kicks in, and he lurches forward to grab Javerts .

The inspector turns to him, and Rivette knows at once, that until now he had no idea he was there. His eyes are wild with anger and sadness, but mostly he just looks scared, its a look he has never seen on the man before and it makes Rivette sad in a way he can’t explain.

“Let go of me, for god’s sake man,” Javert says, his voice hoarse 

“I can't let you do this” Rivette responds, his voice more pleading that he would want.

“don't you understand, I can't carry on, nothing I have ever believed is real I have lost everything just let me go" the last word is accompanied by a violent attempt to pull out his arm out of Rivette's grip.

“ he’s only one man” Rivette pleads “you can’t die over him”

“it not him!” Javert says a hint of amazement in his voice “its everything he stands for, if a man like that is capable of good, then nothing I’ve ever thought is real”

“we can talk about this” Rivette says softly “just move away from the side”

“are you really pretending you care?” Javert says his voice darkly humorous

“I do care about you,” Rivette says, the inspector's face softens strangely and Rivette realises with a sickening jolt the meaning behind the words.

“Please,” he says and this time Javert doesn't move away, 

“it would be better if I died,” Javert says but the conviction is gone from his voice.

“don't you ever say that,” Rivette says his voice nearly a whisper, and the inspector closes his eyes as if in resignation

They stand the way for a moment that seems to stretch into eternity, and then something in Javert breaks and he half collapses into Rivette's chest. 

Unsure of quite how to respond Rivette simply wraps his arms around the man's back and holds him as he sobs, he half thinks to say something but has no words, what can he say to a comfort a man who until now has always seemed so strong? A man who a mere hour ago shrunk away from his touch as if he were diseased? Then with no words of his own Javert pulls away and wipes his eyes angrily, straightening up to face Rivette squarely. 

“I suppose if I say you have convinced me you will let me go?” Javert asks and Rivette shakes his head fiercely.

“you are going to come home with me and have some tea,” he says as commandingly as his shaky voice can manage “I won't hear any arguments"

Javert shakes his head vaguely but allows himself to be led away, and if their interlinked arms aren’t only to ensure they stay together, neither of them mention it.

…

The next issue, Rivvete speculates lying awake that night and staring at the ceiling, is to ensure that the police inspector, who is currently asleep on his sofa, doesn't resign his position.

The save comes in the form of a slew of new homicide reports, that seem to have arisen during the previous days' short rebellion. 

“I still intend to resign,” Javert says, as he studies the first report, a look of concern furrowing his brow.

“Not now” Rivette responds determined “we need everyone working and you’re the best, we can't lose you”

“Compliments will get you nowhere’ the inspector reminds him, but he doesn’t resign that day or the next.

They end up embroiled in a rather grisly murder, that has no leads or suspects.

Rivette piles the papers on Javert's desk, fetches files and information and sticks by his side like a shadow, and slowly he watches the inspector change.

His change of heart and the terrifying collapse of his world view seems suddenly rather help than a hindrance, and when the murderer turns out not to be the ex-convict manservant but rather the mans charming, philanthropic heir, Javert wryly mentions he would never have suspected him before.

The next day Rivette holds his breath when Javert disappears for an overlong period of time, and he begins to worry that with the end of the case he has reached the end of what Javert sees as his duty. 

But his worries are quickly remedied when the inspector throws a new case file on his desk and asks for a background check on various suspects. Rivette supposes the Javert might not have noticed but he is nearly his old self again, it is at once a relief and yet, Rivette thinks selfishly that soon he will no longer have an excuse to spend quite so much time with him.

The case they are working on stenches out uncomfortably long, a robbery and a murder with no forced entrance, of a man known to be a recluse with few friends. Weeks ago Rivette would have suspected that Javert had picked the case in the hope it might be his mysterious Valjean, but considering the events of June he can now hopefully rule out at least one man as a victim and suspect.

Rivette decides to try and make the best of every moment he can spend with the inspector on the case, and along the way realises why he was able to ascend the rungs of the police service quite so quickly. 

On perhaps the third visit to the house, Javert somehow manages to dislodge a floorboard and reveal a mass of the objects presumed stolen hidden beneath the floor of the house they were taken from.

“so he wasn’t robbed?” suggests one of the other officers that has accompanied them there, and Rivette is pretty sure that the look Javert gives him could freeze hell.

“no,” he says slowly as if explaining to a child “it means that the thief knew he could not carry these things easily when he left so..” He leaves the sentence open-ended and Rivette realises at once what he means.

“so he's coming back?’ He asks hopefully and is rewarded by one of Javerts rare smiles.

“exactly, once the police leave he’s coming right back in and grabbing what he couldn’t take the first time” he says grimly “we’re going to remove all police presence, and stake out this house, soon as he comes back” he pauses to clench his hand into a fist “we’ve got him”

The younger officer heads back to to the office with the new information and Javert and Rivette lock up the house, making a big enough show that it would convince anyone spying on them.

“I can take the stakeout tonight” Rivette offers almost reluctantly “it will be less suspicious if there is only one of us”

“there's a pub, just across the road” Javert pauses to gesture “from the top floor we should have a good view of the house, and I believe it is less suspicious not to go to a pub alone?”

“certainly,” Rivette says almost unable to contain his smile.

“good, I’ll meet you back here in two hours, wear something inconspicuous” 

…

The stakeout lasts for three nights, other officers offer to take their place but the two of them shake off the suggestions a little too determinedly. 

No one in the pub seems suspicious of them which is a blessed relief, Rivette doesn’t think he could manage three nights sitting in the street. They take a small window table, watch the house and talk about nothing in particular.

One night, Javert point out constellations in the clear summer sky, and another Rivette unsuccessfully attempts to teach him to play dominoes. It's the third night, halfway through a vague debate about ghosts, that Javert says seething that truly manages to shock Rivette.

“Jean Valjean's dead you know,” he says casually and Rivette almost chokes on his drink.

“what do you mean dead?" he asks 

“exactly what I said, I read it in the paper, and then checked with the family, he’s well and truly dead”

“what did he die of?” Rivette asks still disbelieving, and mildly concerned that Javert was still so focused on this man.

“Old age apparently,” Javert says looking himself rather confused. 

“old age? He can’t be much older than you!” Rivette exclaims, trying to remember what the man had actually looked like beneath the layer of sewage that had covered him, he certainly hadn't looked old.

“thanks for the reminder,” Javert says wryly and Rivette curses himself for never thinking before he speaks.

“so... what does that mean?” Rivet ask determined to steer the subject anywhere but there. 

“I'm not entirely sure” Javert sighs “ I suppose I don't truly believe it, it is strange to believe that I can live in a world where he just doesn't exist”

His face looks oddly sad, and Rivette is reminded of his initial belief when he had first heard of Valjean that Javerts hatred for the man went deeper than merely his criminality. The little voice in his head, that tended only to pop up at the most inopportune times, seems to whisper that he had no chance now. Defeated by a dead ex-con it would be ridiculous if it didn't make him so miserable.

“are you quite well?” asks Javert and Rivette doesn't even want to think about what expression just crossed his face.

“yes,” he says as casually as he can “ I suppose that it will get easier, things always do”

“I suppose you're right’ Javert sighs “you do tend to be of late”

“part of my charm” Rivette suggests managing to grin and he doesn't miss the inspector's soft laugh that accompanies his rolled eyes.

“There!” Javert says suddenly pointing out of the window and Rivette remembers why they are there in the first place, sure enough, a slight figure is climbing over the wall of the house's garden.

The speed with which they leap up from the table and out of the pub certainly disturbs a few of the patrons, but they do manage to reach the house rather quickly, Rivette is attempting to unlock the gate when Javert shakes his head.

“Haven't got time" he hisses clambering over the wall with uncanny agility that would suit someone half his age, Rivette follows awkwardly, glad the coat he’s wearing is easier to move in than his uniform and tumbles inelegantly into the garden,

The thief has caught sight of them and attempts to run but he is clearly unprepared, and they have them caught and handcuffed easily.

“Montparnasse,” says Javert with a knowing grimace, and Rivette wonders if he knows every criminal in Paris by name.

“Inspector Javert” replies the young man, who Rivette notices now is dressed more like a bourgeois than a thief “I suppose you know you will not be able to keep me in jail, after all, you've never managed before”

“I suspect is time might be different," Javert says a hint of threat in his voice and a shadow of doubt crosses the young mans face, he remains proud through, even when they march him into the station and have him under lock and key. 

There's a strange sense of exultation that accompanies making an arrest and Rivette feels it now as he and Javert leave the station and head down along the Seine. 

They have walked together many nights but this one feels different somehow, perhaps it is the arrest or the wine he drank to keep up the cover or perhaps it is that the little voice in his had has become unignorable, but as they pause in front of the building that holds Javerts apartment, the place where they normally part, Rivette knows he has to say or do something.

“I am impressed that you managed three nights on a stakeout,” says Javert softly “I don't know many officers who would take three all-nighters to help solve such a case"

“it was nothing” Rivette responds automatically “I had good company”

Javert smiles at that with a vague tilt of his head and then Rivette does possibly the first impulsive thing he’s ever done in his life. He leans forward and kisses the inspector, square on the lips.

The moment lasts barely a second before he pulls away shocked and horrified by his own actions. 

"I am so sorry” he gasps “I don't know what happened.. I just.. I resign”

“you what?” Javert asks and if Rivette was thinking straight, he might have noticed that the expression on his face was more amusement than anger,

“I resign,” he repeats more serious this time "that was completely inappropriate”

“I think i decide what is inappropriate,” Javert says and this time Rivette can't ignore his bright smile. 

“and if you think I’m going to let you resign after you saved my life and practically press-ganged me into keeping this job, then you have seriously misjudged me”

“I don't understand?” Rivette says confusion almost unbearable, and all too aware that this is the closest Javert has come to mentioning that night in June since it happened. 

“Maybe I can explain” the inspector replies still smiling and this time he is the one to lean into the kiss, he is smaller than Rivette so Rivette had to crane his neck slightly so he can reach, it's uncomfortable but he doesn't mind, at this point Rivette isn’t sure that anything in the world could upset him, bar Valjean rising from his grave.

“So.. would you like to get coffee?’ asks Javert finally and Rivette blinks in confusion.

“nowhere will be open?’ He protests and Javert nods at the brightening day

“its sunrise,” he says plainly. 

“a new day,” Rivette says almost to himself.

“indeed" Javert agrees, and arm in arm they walk into the first rays of the morning sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact: the first coffee shop opened in Paris in 1671 so despite my concern that coffee was anachronistic actually it not!


End file.
